


There are no Pacts Between Lions and Men

by Epic4ver1990



Category: Troy (2004)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:40:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24061504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epic4ver1990/pseuds/Epic4ver1990
Summary: Briseis is raising her son in a society that shuns  him because of his father. Fighting to protect her son and her mental health Briseis embarks on a journey to find peace for herself and her son.
Relationships: Achilles/Briseis (Troy 2004), Andromache/Hector (Troy 2004), Helen/Paris (Troy 2004)
Kudos: 21





	There are no Pacts Between Lions and Men

**Author's Note:**

> MONTHS OF THE YEAR IN GREEK 
> 
> January – Ιανουάριος (Ιαν, Ι) – Ianouarios  
>  February – Φεβρουάριος (Φεβ, Φ) – Fevouarios  
>  March – Μάρτιος (Μάρ, Μ) – Martios  
>  April – Απρίλιος (Απρ, Α) – Aprilios  
>  May – Μάιος (Μάι, Μ) – Maios  
>  June – Ιούνιος (Ιούν, Ι) – Iounios  
>  July – Ιούλιος (Ιούλ, Ι) – Ioulios  
>  August – Αύγουστος (Αύγ, Α) – Avgoustos  
>  September – Σεπτέμβριος (Σεπ, Σ) – Septemvrios  
>  October – Οκτώβριος (Οκτ, Ο) – Oktovrios  
>  November – Νοέμβριος (Νοέ, Ν) – Noemvrios  
>  December – Δεκέμβριος (Δεκ, Δ) – Thekemvrios
> 
> Remember BCE is Before Common Era aka Before Christ so the closer the year gets to Common Era or (Christ’s birth) the number will decrease. As the years pass, the year’s number gets smaller. 
> 
> When Briseis first meets Achilles she is 20 and has chosen to become a virgin Priestess and serve in the temple of the sun god Apollo.. Achilles is 32 and the commander of the Myrmidons in the Achaean (Greek) army.

CHAPTER 1: A Vow Made in Love  
Aprilios 4, 1184 BCE

I remember the way the tears filled his eyes as he died from his wounds. The sky was dark and flames blazed around us as the city, my home, burned. This man that I loved was partly to blame and I still loved him more than I thought I could ever love anyone, even the gods. 

I can hear his voice still. Telling me that it was okay. That it was okay that he was dying and that I would never see him again. Never feel his touch, feel his weight upon my chest, hear my name upon his lips, see the light in his eyes. He whispered those words to me as we sat kneeled on the ground where he had fallen from his injuries, as he stroked my hair softly. 

Those tears. . . I remember how my heart howled at the sight. He was a great warrior the greatest this world had seen. It hurts to admit it, but it is true. My own cousin fell to his sword and until then I would have thought no one could’ve been his better. 

He was a man like no other. . . Achilles. He was my love and my heart. Many remember him for the great warrior that he was, but I remember him for the man that he was.  
********************************************************  
Ioulios 2, 1194 BCE

I sat in a tent, my hands bound behind my back. My white dress draped around my body, as I heard him enter the tent. 

“The men found her hiding in the temple.They thought she'd. . . amuse you.” I hear a man say. Brutes, they're all brutes, killers, and murders. I can hear the sound of wrestling, I hope they are leaving so I turned to look only to be confronted with his bare chest, he’d begun to disrobe himself. I look away.

He was probably going to rape me now, he would not have me without a fight. If he thought I would lay down and let him defile my body, he would find himself sorely wrong. I sat for a while and still he had not come for me. My mind began to wander to the priests and priestesses they murdered. All that blood and those poor priestesses , I would most likely be meeting the same fate as them soon. 

“What is your name?” he asked. I did not answer him, what was the need for my name, if he was going to try and take me, he might as well get it over with. I hear the splashing of water. 

“Did you not hear me?” he says.

“You killed Apollo's priests.” is my only answer.

“I have killed men in five countries, never a priest.” 

“Well, then your men did.” I say. “The sun god will have his vengeance.”

“What is he waiting for?” he asked smugly.

“The right time to strike.” I snapped glancing back at him. He was fully disrobed now. His frame barred openly and I look away from him. 

“His priests are dead, and his acolyte's a captive.  
I think your god is afraid of me.”as he spoke I could yet again hear the wrestling of fabric. 

That was an absurd thing to say, “ Afraid? Apollo is master of the sun. He fears nothing.” 

“Where is he then?” he asked. 

How was I to know why Apollo would take his time to destroy these horrid men, and anyway what would he know. He was asking me these questions to taunt me, and it was working.“You're nothing but a killer! You wouldn't know anything about the gods.” I said with as much destain as I could muster.

“I know more about the gods than your priests. I've seen them.” He says nonchalantly. “You are royalty, are you not? Spent years talking down to men.” he observes as he came to stand beside me. I could feel the heat radiating off his body as he took my hair into his hand and placed it to his nose to take in the scent and then tossed it away as if it had offended him and stood up right once again.  
“You must be royalty. What is your name?”

I kept my eyes to to the other side of the tent, not answering his question. I could feel him wrestling with the ropes that bound me, unraveling them he tossed them aside and I rest my hands in my lap. 

“Even the servants of Apollo have names.”He said. 

He was now kneeling next to me and I turned to look at him. He was now wearing a blue tunic, “Briseis.” I said.

“Are you afraid, Briseis?” he asked calmly, gentle almost. That was confusing, was he upset or not. One minute l could hear the hostility in his voice the next, he almost sounded concerned for me.

“Should I be?”l asked looking upon his face. He was most handsome . He had shoulder length blonde hair, a strong jaw, blue eyes, and a faded scar that he must have received in battle years ago just under his eye on his cheek bone. 

Just then the soldier that brought me here put his head through the flap of the tent, taking a step inside. “My lord.” he spoke. “Agamemnon requests your presence.The kings are gathering to celebrate the victory.”

I saw the blonde man clench and unclench his jaw revealing dimples in his cheeks, It was most appealing, this man was absolutely stunning. But what was I thinking, this man had captured me and who knows what they were going to do to me. I need to find a way out of here and back to the palace.

Not bothering to respond to the mans statement, he answered,never taking his eyes from me. I was no longer looking upon him, but I could feel his gaze on me. “You fought well today.”

“My lord.” was the man's response as if the man had responded to the request.

When he was gone from the tent. I was curious about him, it was obvious that this man was intelligent and was his own man, what would bring a man like that here to do so much harm. “What do you want here in Troy? You didn't come for the Spartan Queen.”

“ I want what all men want, I just wanted more. You don't need to fear me, girl. You're the only Trojan who can say that.”

He left me alone in the tent. I sat there amongst the fur pallets that littered the entirety of the floor contemplating if I could make it out of camp without being seen. It was probably very likely that I wouldn't make it very far. Just then a soldier entered.

“ You are coming with us girl.” he spat and grabbed my arm launching me to my feet.

“ What’s going on, where are you taking me?” I ask trying to keep my voice calm, although I was terribly frightened.

Suddenly I felt a splintering pain across my cheek, he had struck me and the hit knocked me a little dizzy. “ I didn't give you permission to speak priestess.” the man laughed as he dragged me from the tent.  
*********************************************************  
Thekemvrios 7, 1184 BCE 

“He looks like him,” Andromache says as she looks down at the baby that I hold to my breast.

“Have you given him a name?” she asks as she takes a seat at my side.

“I have not. I am having some trouble deciding between EIRENAIOS and LEONIDAS.”

“ Those are Greek names.” she's looking at me as if I have sprouted wings. 

“His father is Greek. . .”

“Was Greek,” she said rather condescending. “Do you think that is wise?” I could hear the disdain in her voice. 

“As you have said, he has his father's likeness. What further harm will come by a Greek name. LEONIDAS means the Lion, that's what the Greeks called his father, the Lion for his fighting style. I think Achilles would have like EIRENAIOS though. . .” I felt the wind of the hit before it connected with my face, she had struck me. I had spoken his name, no one spoke his name ever, especially in the presence of Andromache.

“Eirenaios is a good name.” with that and without another glance in my direction she exited the tint.

Andromache had changed greatly over these months since the fall of Troy. I could see the constant battle that waged inside of her daily to stay strong. I could see the effect the loss of Hector had caused her. And i knew she didn't mean to take out her frustration on me, I understood why she did. I love the man that took her husband's life, I loved him then and I love him still. It is his child a token of that love that I now hold to my chest, Eirenaios will not have a good life here. But I will fight and protect him until my death, even from her.  
*********************************************************

END OF CHAPTER


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